


The Night Oracle

by zero_paradise



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_paradise/pseuds/zero_paradise
Summary: Noctis, demon prince, bored and charged with exhuming soiled land follows ancient and mysterious voices into a long forgotten chasm.  After hundreds of years, life has his interest again; in return for passage through the veil that separates humans from shadows, he must find The Night Oracle. Despite no such being existing, Noctis accepts the duty and finds himself wingless and at a human's mercy.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Kudos: 24





	The Night Oracle

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble is inspired by lovely art by Silvertiger, please check out the link at the end!  
> Note: I don't have a beta, this was me just typing some shit up because I miss the boys.

__

_The Night Oracle.  
Chapter One – RED_

Hell would be fine without its princeling.

The king’s hand was mighty and reprimands wicked. Justice was swift in the underworld, especially in the Crown City Insomnia. No soul sleeps. No shadow goes undisturbed. Yet for hundreds of years, the Prince fell forlorn. He wanted for nothing, nothing he was. Ruling was ritual, patrolling pitiful. None dare rise against him and the young few who did coward in moments. 

Proud was his father, he pandered to the ideals he son should posture and provided an island all to his own. 

“My son,” Proclaimed his father, “Rise these ruins. Heave your heart to the heavens, stars will shine on a new leg of our legacy, my son!” King Regis a wise man, a wiser king. He gifted his son with entertainment whilst capturing the dark heart of the darkest lands: Angelgard. 

Whispers passed from king to son, rumors of the Isle. No king had concurred. None managed to pull the land under the grasp of the crown.

__

_It is not a land, but the hide of a monster.  
It is a fallen star, our undoing.  
It is a tomb, nothing more.  
It has been dead long before our lands begun to die. _

“What is it, father?” Noctis asked. Surely, he would know sending his son to rein in the tumultuous ramparts.

“It is waiting.” Regis clasped his hands on the prince’s shoulders. “You are better than us all. Are you afraid?”

Did the prince of darkness fear? He felt nothing. He wanted for nothing. Time turned slowly and his heart no longer ached. He tracked the days by reflections only. Mirrors, gilded, lustrous, and polished surfaces all doors to the human world. Their days minutes in their world. Demons could lose their minds and waste away watching too closely, mistaking generations of a family for one person. Waking only to consume the soul who at last wandered into the dark lands at their passing. Enamored and enraged by the human’s deceit, demons were quick to jump to conclusions and end a line in an instant. Demons did not ask questions. They did not ask, nor did they imagine or wonder.

Demons watched. Demons waited. Humans looked up to the heavens for salvation and damned themselves. Humans stomped, scurried, and stuck others in their blind pursuit. Darkening their souls and minds, edging open the door to the underworld. This was no shame on humanity’s part. The circle of life, as they called it; All ended up in the world of the dead. Their flesh for demons to feast upon, not to torture! Divinity a lie for the royals and noble’s sake. The less a human darkened their heart, the more tender the soul. Juicy. Addicting. Mouthwatering. 

Noct had a gift, so few had. His eyes passed from a mirror in the demon world into that of a human’s. A pure soul, a portly unsuspecting sprite would catch sight of The Lord of Darkness, The Prince of the Never-Ending Nights. Some died of fear: the horns, claws and fangs too much to bear. The heart halted, its spirit hauled into Noct’s waiting palm.

The Prince did not exercise this gift freely. But when the feeling was too much to bear, when consumption had him in its grasps, and he was near to waste away into the darkest abyss, Noctis utilized his talents. Humans. Beloved humans with their hope and bright eyes, Noctis stole from them and thanked them. He wept over their memories and released lesser demons into their family’s lives. Demons were not all bad, they were not all good either. Noct did not need them to be one or the other, “Kill their enemies. Mine the mountains. Dote on their kin.”

A price was paid for the loss of a family member, the price steep, and the reward bountiful, for Noct and the surviving persons. Demons could not live in the world of humans. The shadowlings he sent would rejoice in the light, love their life, and waste away in a fortnight. The weaker a demon, the easier to slip past the tear of the ether, and the longer they’d endure and carry out the will of their prince.

Thus he spent his time on the island: exporting shadowlings, importing the occasional soul, raising castles, raking through skeletons, exhuming mysterious and depths unknown to the Caelum’s. 

“Sire.” A wing-fiend kept an eye in the sky and over his shoulder. “I advise you cease todays decent. Something is not quite right.”

“Ignis.” Noctis rose a hand and a blue light enveloped him, the armiger of kings, swords, shields, hammers, and firearms surrounding him. “Say it to me in person or begone.” Ignis, a cyclopedic shadow bat flapped angrily. His true form already predisposed to a different hand Noctis had ordered his attention to earlier. 

“It seems as if his highness intended to be unbothered.”

“What gave you that idea, specs?” A claw finger tapped the large round eye making much of the shadowlings body. 

“Do be careful, highness.”

“I am the lord of these lands.” Yet the lands were unknown, a spiraling staircase to a darkness that felt foreign. Wonder filled him. Want possessed him. Strange the feelings, the gravity ushered, urged, him deeper and deeper into the depths until the glow of his arms reached only as far as his fingertips and toes. There was always a step where before, just a shadow. Down and down, round and round, Noctis went.

_✠_

Noctis recoiled from a reflection of himself, the image suddenly stopped his decent or had it welcomed him to the bottom? His expression lifeless and daunted. 

_‘How far the mighty have fallen’_ A voice whispered under another, _‘Why do you picture your presence among them?’_

_‘They will burn you’ ‘you are the monster they fear’ ‘the darkness that threatens’_

_‘Why do you steal from them?’  
‘Why not give back?’ _

“I give them much in return for their loss.” Noctis cut into the voices of the unknown. His reflection did not speak, only watched. Noctis spread his wings and lifted his head, a royal command—even his own image would obey. It did not. The mirror smiled, hauntingly bright. His eyes round and full of life.  
_  
‘Young Prince, my lord. We are but your servants, we want to please, please, listen. We ask our king to only hear our words. We seek what your heart desires. WONDER. Life. Pleasure! Sin and Saint. We of the Isle can open the veil. Bring us the oracle of the night and we can sever the chains of the veil forever.’_

At last the reflection was proper, wings wide, eyes glowing a fierce vibrant purple. But still the reflection was smiling, his eyes had something he did not. Noctis, who wanted nothing, wanted _that_. 

Noctis Lucis Caelum had a gift, this time it was more than a reflection or a shadowling he sent into the human world. Wings and all, he tore through the veil and stood under a blood red moon, glass shattered around him, woods flanked him. A hallow frame above him. Glass crunched under his weight, his footing lost, Noctis sat upon the pile. A dull touch stood out amongst the sharp edges of shattered glass.

An obsidian ring, stone as round and red as the moon above him. “The ring of the Lucii?” A ring of his forefathers, lost to time, now on his hand. Noct’s body contorted. His wings vanished and his horns receded into his skull. An uncomfortable adjustment but a prince of pain could endure it all. He rose and glanced at his scattered and fractured reflection. It was the man in the mirror at the bottom of the chasm.

Noct straightened his jacket. Oracle of the night was it? Already he was damned. There was but one oracle at a time, a false prophet and voice of the Astrals. They believed, they were not wrong, they communed with something beyond. It was, however, demons of royal blood. Piety was but a ploy. So a prophet of the night? That was news to the puppeteer himself. His father would be grateful, weeding out rebels and falsehoods under their kingdom. 

A king always had the right words, even when he knew none. A king spoke without doubt making the wrong his own and thus ineffable. How then, a king to be, could be left in awe. Out of the woods, the town was gold and shining. Warmth in autumn, light in the darkness. Lanterns lifted to the moons carrying their prayers, hopes, and dreams. Noctis had seen nothing like this and he was a being of magic. 

The prince, unsurprised passed through throngs of crowd with zero resistance. At their core, they were his subjects. He was their ultimatum and not a pleasant one. He was the end of the line and wishing to avoid ill fates early, their immortal souls navigated away naturally. Predator and Prey. Flight or Fight. 

“Whoa!” Smack! Right into his chest, while his head had been in the air, watching lanterns rise and prayers fly a body smacked into his. Not all humans were wise, not all had instincts to keep them alive. Something between them crunched and he hoped to his forefathers it wasn’t his heart. Clawlike fingers splayed on speckled shoulders and Noctis held the human back and still. His arms had flailed, and apologies dropped from his mouth quicker shadow fallowed its master.

“Dude, I am so sorry! Shit, my lantern, or was that yours, ours?”

“It’s alright,” Noctis laughed low and slow. A minute in a human’s life was like a day to a demon, strange now they moved in tandem. Noctis could still see every blink, twitch of his lip and toss of his head in slow motion. But they all moved in real time, in the moment. “I did not have a lantern.” 

“Oh, thank the six, you already sent yours up?”

“I did not have a lantern.” Noctis repeated himself, slower than the first. Was he moving a fraction too fast? Time was relevant. 

“No, no, like you didn’t have one at all?” The stranger tilted his head and shifted his weight, more concern with Noctis lack of rather than the sorry state of the one between their feet.

“No.”

“Awesome! Well. I mean not awesome. I mean. Hey.” The boy smiled and damned if Noctis didn’t look to check that the moon wasn’t still in the sky. He was the sun, living and breathing before him. When had such a star fallen, when had it risen at the wrong time?

“I see now why the moon bleeds.” Noctis purred, the blonde smiled like a fool. 

“It’s hurt because we don’t have lanterns.” The sun laughed and offered his hand, jumping slightly. Noctis flinched back as well, only just realizing his hands were still on the sun-child’s shoulders. He stared at the offering and back at the man.

Prompto took no offense and answered his confusion by clasping their hands together. “The name’s Prompto. You aren’t from around here, are ya?”

“No,” Noctis dipped his head in admission. His attire regal. Flattering. Detailed to every last stitch. Every thread intended for his being. His company, Prompto, out shined his unfortunate fittings. His top was not billowy for the wind, it was ill fitted, it hung off his shoulders and the color tinted with sweat, dirt, wear, and time. His pants dark with darker splotches and spots. Prompto ran a hand down himself, either realizing he was being taken apart or riding himself of dust before the deductions could start. 

“Well welcome to the Galdin Quay!” Prompto gestured to the lively party around him, the boats on the water, and the people on the banks. It was the best place to see the moon above them, Noctis took it in again.

“Here, let’s get a lantern. I only have enough for one more. We’ll have to split it. Cool?” 

“You pay for this?” Noctis gestured at the broken bits, Prompto cleaned the scrap, inspecting to see if any part was salvageable. 

“You pay for everything here,” Prompto lightly scoffed. “Follow me.” He gave up on the remains and discarded the twigs and fabrics in bins appropriate. Without further warning, he took Noctis’s hand and bolted. “We have to hurry! You have to get the prayer up by midnight!”

“Why?” Where Prompto was breathless as they ran Noctis was not. Had he known where they were going, he could have run in front. The crowds would have parted, Prompto the only poor dove foolish enough to encounter him. He stopped them just before a booth, the couple there promptly closing up shop. Prompto took them another direction, this stall already folded up. He was breathing heavily by the fourth and at last his ill-fitting clothes stuck to him properly. 

Noctis hadn’t said a word and watched politely as he was dragged on. He understood easily, midnight was the deadline and the peddlers too wanted their wishes to be heard. It was not his place to reign devastation to his guide, he was trying to get both their prayers to the six above, to none who would listen.

“My sweet, look.” Noctis snapped his fingers, delighted to find his gift of the shadows did not fail him here. For below was above. This lantern was unlike the others. The paper dyed red, the stitching black and the wood, thin as it was with stranger carvings embellishing the edges. 

“No way!” Prompto looked from Noctis to the free lantern. “Dude, we can’t take it. Someone must have set it down.”

“Their loss. Our find.”

“It doesn’t even have a candle.” Prompto crouched by the delicate piece, though much sturdier than all the other handcrafted lanterns.

“Why should it need a candle?”

“It’s how it flies, how our prayers get up so high.”

Rather than assuring Prompto neither of those things to be true, he flicked his hand. No candle needed for a purple flame to be produced. Prompto gazed at the stars, the want in his eyes all too familiar.

“Voila.” Noctis said. He put his hands on Prompto’s, seeing his fingers begin to lift. “Sending it off so soon?”

“Shit, shit I almost dropped it!”

“You promised the candle made it fly.”

“Oh,” As if seeing it for the first time, the paper glowed magenta, the flame illuminated designs he hadn’t seen before or anywhere. “Whoa. Wow. This is beautiful…”

“Hey,” Prompto’s voice caught. “I didn’t get your name.”

“I did not give it.” His lips curled and Noctis looked around, the entrance from the forest to the town was far more momentous that this alley, dark without company. “Come. We have minutes. Hold fast to it now, Prompto.” He trusted his companion with the lantern, should it fall however, Noctis would not let it become damaged. “One hand, sunshine.” Noctis took Prompto’s right in his own and placed his left on Prompto’s waist. To any unsuspecting eye they walked quickly, side by side. Those who saw things slowly and adept to patience observance would see Noctis in the lead. He led their stride and cheated both space and time. None would observe quick enough, Prompto could hardly have the second to question it. From an alley to a cliff overlooking the ocean. The stars reflected on the steady water and Noctis almost regretted his position. He could have taken Prompto to the center of the universe! Which was to say, further into the lake. But high as they were, the moon just beyond their reach. 

“Together now,” Their palms overlay each other’s, Prompto reminded him to think of a wish. Together they lifted and released! Their wishes floated above them, but gifted them with the moon at their fingertips.

“I wish for you to call me, Noctis.” The Prince announced and threaded their fingers together above their heads holding the image of the blood red moon up together.

Authors Note:  
Yeah Right now, Prompto’s a peasant. TOTALLY a whore. Gladio is his best customer as another not yet to be named (if you know me…You know exactly who it is lol). But I picture this exact moment, down the line. Prompto fitted to match his king.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the art that inspired this fic [here](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1021018) or [here](https://backseatfishing.tumblr.com/post/190005409620/the-moon-will-rise-again). Be sure to give them a like, comment, follow. All of their art is so inspiring, I couldn't help but just write something! They did an Ignis as well and snap -fansself-
> 
> And for any who follow my other fic, ah yes, I know. I still have every intention of updating it. 
> 
> As for this one, it just hit me and I have ideas.
> 
> Oh! I've posted this on my pillowfort [here](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1089510) and will link to my tumblr later. Please be sure to like and comment (comments fuel me lol)


End file.
